


To End it All, the Blood and the Game

by mithrel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Battle, Blanket Permission, Character Death, Character Death Fix, Community: spn_reversebang, Exorcisms, F/M, First Kiss, M/M, Podfic Welcome, Possession, Pre-Het, Pre-Slash, Resurrection
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2010-10-28
Updated: 2011-12-20
Packaged: 2017-11-13 14:01:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/504273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mithrel/pseuds/mithrel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With the death of Gabriel, Anna, and Castiel, Dean felt hopeless and said Yes to Michael. Michael!Dean defeats Lucifer and his followers with the help of resurrected angels, the rest of the heavenly hosts, and fellow hunters. Sam, Gabriel, and Castiel aren't happy when Michael refuses to leave and return Dean's soul to his own body.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. To End it All, the Blood and the Game

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the spn_reversebang. Art is [here.](http://buni-in-the-sky.livejournal.com/100784.html) I'd like to thank zekkass for her help with angel names, talli_approved for the speedy and thorough beta, and of course my artist, buni_in_the_sky, for creating such an awesome and inspiring piece of art. Title from "Vox Populi," by 30 Seconds to Mars.

When Dean walks into the room, Sam knows immediately there’s something wrong. Dean’s been drinking even more lately than when he first got back from Hell, and Sam can’t blame him. Things had been going well for awhile there; Anna had busted out of reeducation camp, and Gabriel had agreed to help them.

They should have known it was too good to last.

They’d heard rumors that Pestilence was slinking around San Antonio, so they’d headed down there.

But it hadn’t just been Pestilence.

It had been Pestilence, Death, _and_ a shitload of demons.

They’d been overwhelmed. Anna had been swamped by demons, Death had gotten Gabriel, and Cas…

Cas had gone down trying to protect Dean.

Since then, they’ve been licking their wounds, trying to recover and gather enough support to try again. But there aren’t many hunters left, and those that are still alive aren’t interested in helping the people who started the mess in the first place. So it’s him, Dean and Bobby. A couple people Bobby knows are helping too, but more with keeping an eye on things, and they only talk to him, not Sam or Dean.

And now Dean’s moving like a predator–not his usual lazy stalk, but an aura of _look-at-me-wrong-and-I-will-fuck-you-up_ that Sam’s never seen before.

“Dean?”

His brother looks at him for the first time, and Sam freezes, since he knows what Dean looks like, and this isn’t him. “Oh, dude, you didn’t!” he moans softly, more out of reflex than any hope that it will turn out to be true.

“Sam,” Michael says solemnly. Dean’s voice, but completely devoid of any of the overtones his brother puts into the name. It’s the polite acknowledgement of a stranger to someone they don’t entirely trust, not the warmth of someone who’s spent most of his life looking out for him.

“God, Dean, what did you _do?_ ”

“He said yes,” Michael replies. “I should think that was obvious.”

“Let me talk to him!”

Michael shakes his head. “No, I’m sorry. I can’t do that.”

“What the fuck do you mean you can’t? Let me talk to my brother right the fuck now, asshole!”

Michael sighs elaborately, then relaxes.

“Sammy?”

And _that’s_ Dean. “Dean, what the fuck?! What the hell is wrong with you? You said yes to _Michael?!_ ”

“I had to!” Dean snaps. “We tried to stop it on our own, and all that got was a ton of people killed! Ellen, Jo…” he stops, then whispers, “Cas.”

“I can’t believe you did that!” Or, okay, maybe he can, since Dean’s always had a thing about people dying because of him, and he’s been protective of Cas since the beginning. Sam’s not sure what exactly was going on there. Knowing Dean’s issues, probably nothing.

“I made some conditions.”

“ _Conditions?_ ” Sam repeats incredulously. “You really think Michael’s going to pay attention to what you want?”

“What choice did I have?” Dean demands. “I wanted to make sure we go after Lucifer in the body he’s in now. That way we at least have a chance of winning and you don’t have to have that bastard crawling around in your head.”

“Dean–”

But Dean’s attitude has changed again. Sam grits his teeth.

“You’re grossly outnumbered,” Michael says. “And you can’t hope to win, even with my help.”

“Then what the fuck are you–”

Michael shrugs. “You had allies, once.”

And suddenly the room’s full of people. Sam nearly jumps out of his skin. And, looking around, he’s hard-pressed not to go for iron or salt.

Ellen and Jo are standing in a corner of the room. Jo looks belligerent, and Ellen faintly confused. Anna’s next to them, and her face goes bloodless when she sees Michael.

Gabriel pulls himself to something resembling attention, but his eyes are wary. “Michael.”

Michael nods at him. “Gabriel. It’s been a long time.”

Gabriel grimaces, but doesn’t make any excuses.

Cas had appeared right next to Sam, and as he sees Dean his eyes widen. “Oh, Father, no,” he whispers and takes a step forward. Sam grabs him.

“Not a good idea.”

“But Dean–”

“Yeah, I know, but considering you were trying to _stop_ the Apocalypse…”

“He will come to no harm from me,” Michael says.

Sam blinks. “What?”

“His resurrection was one of the conditions, along with agreement not to punish him for his transgressions.”

Sam doesn’t think Cas has transgressed, but he’s not going to make an issue of it and possibly make Michael change his mind. Of course that was one of the conditions. Dean would want Cas back and wouldn’t want him hurt, same as he wouldn’t want Sam hurt.

“Can someone tell me what the hell’s going on?” Ellen breaks in suddenly.

“I think we would all like to know that,” Anna says.

“Dean said yes.” He still can’t believe it.

“He did _what?! Why?!_ ”

Sam shrugs helplessly at Ellen. “I dunno! He said he didn’t have any choice.”

“You spoke to him?” Cas says sharply.

Sam shakes his head at the situation. “Yeah, for a minute.”

“What exactly did he say?”

“He said we tried to stop it on our own, and all that got us was people killed. He said he made conditions.”

“What kind of conditions?”

“That we go after Lucifer in the body he’s in now. I guess that Michael brings back the people who died and doesn’t come after you.”

Cas looks at Michael, who looks bored by the whole thing. His eyes are stricken.

“What exactly has been going on?” Jo asks.

Sam looks at Michael.

“Feel free to update them on the situation.”

 _Oh, well, thank you very much._ He spends the next fifteen minutes telling Ellen and Jo everything that happened after Carthage.

“And then we went to San Antonio. It was a clusterfuck. Gabriel, Anna and Cas all died and Dean and I barely managed to get out. Next thing I know, he’s Michael.” He throws a disgusted look at the archangel.

Gabriel’s sprawled on one of the beds, Ellen and Jo have taken the chairs, Sam’s sat down on the other bed. Even Cas is leaning against the wall. But Michael is standing at attention just like he has been this entire time.

“Have you any other allies?”

“A couple,” Sam says cautiously.

Michael nods. “You may inform them of our plans. They may be able to help, though I doubt it.”

That pisses Sam off. Like everything they’ve been doing has meant nothing and Michael is just humoring them, letting them play at being heroes while the grown-ups take care of the important stuff. Gabriel snorts, and when Sam catches his eyes he looks at Michael, grimaces and shrugs. Sam shakes his head in reply, then gets out his cell phone to call Bobby.

***

“What’s up, kid?” Bobby’s voice comes through the phone, sounding tired and hopeless.

Sam rubs his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. “Dean said yes.”

“He did _what?_ Is he okay?”

Sam shrugs. “I think so. Michael let me talk to him for a minute.”

“What’d he say?”

“That he had no choice, that we tried to do it on our own and couldn’t.”

“What in…someone needs to smack that boy!”

“No argument here,” Sam says. “Listen, Michael’s here now. He…brought back some people.”

“When you say ‘brought back’…” Bobby repeats.

“I mean he resurrected them, yeah.”

“Who?”

“Anna. Cas and Gabriel.” Sam pauses. “Ellen and Jo.”

Bobby’s reply is muffled, and consists mostly of profanity. “And they’re…”

“Tell him it’s really us,” Ellen says, and at Sam’s surprised glance she continues, “Logical question. Remind him of Boise if he doesn’t believe you.”

“Ellen says to tell you about Boise.”

Bobby pauses, then sighs. “Okay. Have you tested them?”

“Bobby, I’m not going to–”

“Test ’em. If they pass, get your asses up here ASAP. God help you if they don’t.”

There’s a click and Sam stares at the phone in bemusement.

“Lemme guess,” Ellen drawls. “The old cuss didn’t believe you.”

Sam sighs. “No. What happened in Boise?”

She shrugs. “He made a stupid mistake and I saved his ass. I assume he wants us tested?”

Sam nods, and rummages in his duffel for silver, iron and holy water.

“This is unnecessary,” Michael says.

“Bro,” Gabriel says, speaking up for the first time, “The Winchesters have every reason to be paranoid and no reason to take your word for it. Let Sam test us.”

Michael grimaces, but whether it’s at the fact that Sam doubts his word or Gabriel calling him “bro,” Sam doesn’t know.

“Wait, ‘us’?” he repeats.

Gabriel shrugs. “Sure. No point in proving that Ellen and Jo aren’t demons and then having Anna stab you in the back. No offense.”

Anna rolls her eyes. “None taken.”

So Sam tests all five of them using silver, iron and holy water, then thinks of something. “Would holy oil hold you?” he asks Castiel.

“It will. Do you have any?”

“Not much.”

“Perhaps it would be better to save it for Lucifer.”

“Or,” Anna says, “You can use it to test us, and if we pass we can get some more.”

“What if you fail?”

“I don’t think that’s really necessary,” Gabriel says, snapping up a candy bar.

Sam grimaces. “Okay, so you’re an angel, but what about Cas and Anna?”

“They are too,” Gabriel says, and, at Sam’s skeptical look, continues in an offended tone, “Trust me. I wouldn’t have survived this long if I couldn’t tell an angel by sight.”

“ _If_ that’s all,” Michael breaks in, his voice aggrieved.

Sam grimaces. “For now. Bobby wants us at his place.”

Michael nods. “Gather what you need. Anna, Gabriel, if you would…?”

Sam packs up his duffel, and the next thing he knows Gabriel’s got two fingers pressed to his forehead.

He blinks around at the outside of Bobby’s yard. “Jesus, you could have warned me!”

Gabriel shrugs, as Michael frowns at the blasphemy. Ellen is next to him, and Anna is a few paces off, with Jo next to her. Cas is a little apart from the rest of them.

 _At least the wards work,_ Sam thinks morosely. Michael wouldn’t have tried to transport them to the outside of the yard; they must have been bounced there.

He hoists his duffel back to his shoulder. “Come on.”

***

Bobby opens the door, looking momentarily startled to see them, then focuses on Michael. “You’re an idjit.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I ain’t talkin’ to you, angel boy. Now get in here, all of you.”

Michael looks vaguely offended, and Sam smothers a laugh.

Once they’re all arranged around Bobby’s living room, moving piles of books or papers when necessary, Bobby glares up at Michael. “So you’re just gonna fix things now, is that it?”

Michael shrugs. “With the Host’s assistance it should not be difficult to defeat Lucifer.”

“So why are you here? Why bother with us?” Bobby gestures to Sam, and Ellen and Jo sitting on the couch.

Michael grimaces. “Your involvement is not…strictly necessary. However…”

“However?”

“However, Dean made sure that if he let Michael use his body he wouldn’t leave us out of the fight,” Sam says, abruptly figuring it out.

Michael grimaces and nods. “This is the case.”

“Well, I’m not gonna be much use,” Bobby says. “I mean, I could help you plan, but I’m pretty sure Tacticus over there knows more about this kinda thing.”

“Dean values your input,” Michael says stonily, and Sam and Bobby both stare at him.

“Wait a minute Michael, you don’t expect me to join the Host, do you?” Gabriel puts in.

Michael gives him a cold look. “Of course I do. Deserter or not, you’re the Trumpeter.”

Gabriel winces. “That’s not fair!”

“Isn’t it?”

“I couldn’t stand the fighting anymore,” Gabriel mumbles.

“Be that as it may.”

“I’m not joining the Host,” Castiel says abruptly, and everyone stares again.

“Excuse me?” Michael says.

Castiel swallows, but continues. “I’m a renegade. They will kill me.”

“Not if I told them–”

“And Dean needs me,” Castiel cuts him off.

Michael stares at him, his face stormy. Castiel glares back defiantly.

After a moment Michael heaves a put-upon sigh. “Very well. You will stand with me.”

“Me too,” Gabriel says, and when Michael turns to him again he says, “I’m not leaving Cas alone with you.”

“And I’m not leaving Dean,” Sam says.

“He would not want you–”

“I don’t give a fuck what he’d want,” Sam says and Michael sighs again and throws up his hands.

“Hate to break up this discussion,” Jo drawls. “But what do we do?”

Michael glances at Ellen and Jo. “You have experience fighting demons?”

“Of course we do,” Ellen says, “Holy water, iron, salt...”

“Plus you still have the Colt, don’t you?” Ellen asks Sam.

He nods. “Yeah. And Ruby’s knife.”

“There’s a couple other hunters I know that might want to be in on this,” Bobby says. “Rufus, Kelly, Chris…”

Michael nods. “Let them know.”

***

The three hunters Bobby mentioned show up and they start to hash out the details. Gabriel will sound his horn and lead the charge with Michael and Cas. Sam’s not sure what he’s going to be doing, since he can’t exactly participate in that.

The hunters will protect the flanks, split into two groups.

Sam’s beginning to think Michael was right in not wanting their help–the angels will have their swords, but none of the rest of them have weapons that are very effective: they have the Colt and Ruby’s knife, but most of the hunters will just have rock salt shotguns and vials of holy water, which will run out fairly quickly.

“That’s why they are on the flanks,” Michael says when Sam brings it up. “They will only have to deal with those demons who try to flee.”

“What about the Horsemen?” Chris asks suddenly. He’s a rangy man with a windburn and hair so blond it’s almost white. “Won’t they be there?”

Michael nods. “Most likely with Lucifer. You won’t have to deal with them.”

“But if we do?” Kelly demands. She’s got huge brown eyes and a cap of dark hair and is constantly running a finger over her knife.

“I will put a few angels with each of your groups.”

“Which ones?” Gabriel demands.

Michael thinks a moment. “Lehatiel and Sariel, for one group. Seheiah, Samael, and Marmaroth for the other.”

“Not Marmaroth, are you kidding? He’d cause more chaos than he prevented.”

Michael nods. “Zerachiel, then.”

“That would work.”

“But that’s three on one group and two on the other,” Rufus says.

“I’ll be with the other,” Anna says.

He gives her a dubious look. “No offense, but you don’t look like you’d be much help in a fight.”

“None taken. I can prove it to you, that is if Bobby doesn’t mind.”

Bobby shrugs. “Just don’t send anyone to the hospital.”

They all trail out to the sunset of the junkyard and Anna and Rufus head for the cleared space in the center.

Anna goes into a defensive crouch. Rufus rushes her, clearly expecting her not to be prepared. She dodges aside, grabs his arm as he goes by and wrenches at it, throwing him off balance.

He recovers, backing off and looking at her with a bit more wariness. Anna feints to one side, but Rufus isn’t fooled. He steps with her and they circle each other for a few moments.

Rufus throws a punch at her head, but she puts up a hand and blocks it. Then she sweeps his legs out from under him when he’s still got most of his weight on one of them and knocks him to the ground. “Satisfied?”

Rufus blinks up at her dazedly. “Uh-huh.”

“And that’s just hand-to-hand,” she says, holding out a hand to help him up. “I know how to use a sword too.”

“Okay, okay, you’ve convinced me.”

As Anna goes by, Kelly holds out her hand and Anna gives her a discreet high-five.

Sam notices that the Impala is parked out back and shoots a glance at Michael.

Michael shrugs. “He was complaining.”

And of course Dean would complain about Michael leaving his baby in the middle of nowhere, but Sam hadn’t expected Michael to _care._

Once they’re back inside, Bobby yawns. “Maybe you featherbrains can stay up all night and be fresh as a daisy in the morning, but I need my beauty sleep.”

Ellen snorts. “You’ll need an awful lot of it.”

Bobby glares at her.

Michael nods. “I need to speak with the Host. We’ll keep watch outside.”

Sam doesn’t miss Bobby relaxing slightly. He can’t blame him. It’s beyond creepy having someone walking around who looks like Dean but isn’t. Michael might not be a demon, but they’ve all been trained to be twitchy at the first sign of possession. Not to mention he’s pretty sure Bobby doesn’t want angels prowling around his house while he’s asleep.

Bobby looks around the room as Michael and the rest of the angels file out and considers. “Hmm. This is gonna take some juggling.”

It is more people than Sam’s ever seen at Bobby’s before. When he and Dean stayed here there was the guest bedroom, or the couch, but there are too many people for that now.

They finally get it straightened out. Bobby’s been sleeping on a cot in the living room, so Rufus takes his old bed upstairs, Ellen and Jo end up sleeping in the guest room, Kelly gets the cot in the panic room, and Rufus and Sam take the couch and floor, respectively.

It takes him a long time to fall asleep that night, even considering the hard floor.

***

Sam’s woken up the next morning by people moving around the living room. He sits up and groans as his back protests. He’s only twenty-six, but he’s got more than enough old scars and injuries to make sleeping on the floor uncomfortable.

Rufus swings his legs over onto the floor once he’s out of the way. “Breakfast?”

“Get your own,” Ellen says on her way past. “This ain’t the Roadhouse.”

“In the kitchen,” Bobby grunts.

When he gets into the kitchen, Sam stares. He hadn’t even known Bobby _had_ this much food. He must have been stockpiling. There’s a pot of oatmeal on the stove, stacks of French toast and pancakes, some fresh fruit, bacon, eggs, sausage, ham…

“Like it?”

Sam whirls to see Gabriel standing in the doorway. “You made this?” He looks again at the food. He would have expected a breakfast Gabriel made to consist mainly of sweets.

Gabriel shrugs. “It’s only polite. After all, we invaded his house. Would be rude to eat him out of house and home too.”

As Sam stares, trying to reconcile _Gabriel_ and _polite,_ the archangel takes a stack of pancakes (chocolate chip, Sam sees now) and puts them on a plate. There are just as many left on the plate when he’s done, and as Gabriel leaves they cover themselves with whipped cream.

Sam snorts, takes some oatmeal, fruit and a few slices of bacon (since he’s health-conscious, not masochistic) and heads back out to the living room.

Or tries to. He’s intercepted in the door by Michael, who looks put out. Michael ignores him, heading over to the table and piling a plate with eggs, ham, bacon and sausage. Sam stares.

Michael looks up at him. “He was complaining,” he says again.

Sam blinks. “So you’re eating?”

Michael shrugs. “It’s more expedient.”

Sam shakes his head. This is too bizarre.

Once he’s back in the living room he notices there are some people there he doesn’t recognize. He supposes they must be angels, since no one else would wear stuff like that.

There’s a woman with brown curly hair, wearing what looks like a toga, greaves and bracers, talking to Michael.

Another woman, tall, with dark skin and eyes and a cascade of wavy black hair tumbling past her shoulders, is currently sprawled on the couch, and what looks like medieval style armor is heaped on the floor near it.

There are three other angels, all in male vessels. One is slim, wearing a toga too, and staring out the window.

Another one is talking to Anna, and Sam only sees his back. They seem to be having some sort of argument. The last angel intercedes, getting them calmed down.

“I’ve spoken with Assiel…” the dark-haired angel is telling Michael as Sam moves within earshot.

“Wait, _Assiel?!_ ” Sam repeats incredulously.

“Yes,” Michael replies, perfectly straight-faced. “He’s an angel of healing.”

Sam gives Anna a look, and she shrugs. “It wasn’t inappropriate when they named him.”

And if Sam needed any more proof that Dean wasn’t in control this was it. If Dean ever got his body back he was gonna be pissed he missed this. How often does that golden an opportunity for mocking come along?

“This is Sariel,” Michael says, motioning to the angel beside him, who nods. “Sam Winchester.”

“Pleased to meet you,” she says gravely. Her voice is deeper than Sam expected.

“And Samael,” Michael continues, motioning to the angel on the couch.

“Wait, Samael like the angel of _death?_ ” Sam yelps, and edges away. He and Dean have both died enough that they don’t want anything to do with it.

She grins at him. “My reputation precedes me. Relax, I’m just here to protect against the Horseman.”

“Uh-huh,” Sam says, unconvinced.

“And this is Lehatiel,” Michael says, turning to the red-haired angel who’d been arguing with Anna.

Lehatiel ignores him.

The angel who’d been looking out the window is Seheiah, and the one who’d stopped Lehatiel and Anna arguing is Zerachiel. They both nod cautiously at Sam.

By that point people have started wandering out, and Michael introduces them one by one. Sam doesn’t miss the fact that Castiel stays in the corner, near Gabriel and Anna. He supposes he can’t blame the guy. The last time he’d run into another angel he ended up beat to hell, and before that exploded.

Michael turns to the angels and says, “We have volunteers to protect our flanks, but they will be vulnerable to the Horsemen. I believe that Death and Pestilence will be with Lucifer, but in case they are not they will need your help.”

There are nods all around, though Lehatiel looks rebellious.

“I want the groups to be as balanced as possible,” Michael continues. “Sariel can deal with both Pestilence and Death, should the need arise. She, Lehatiel and Anna will be in one group–”

“I’m not working with her,” Lehatiel spits at Anna, as the room goes suddenly quiet. “She’s a deserter.”

Michael stares at him coldly. “Are you questioning my orders?”

“I’m not working with her.”

“You will work with whomever I tell you to work with!” Michael snarls.

“Michael, please,” Anna says. “You can put him in the same group as me, but you can’t force him to work with me, and if we don’t work together we won’t have a chance.”

Michael’s fists clench, but he nods. “Very well. Sariel, Anna and Seheiah. Samael, Lehatiel and Zerachiel. Unless there are any more objections,” he finishes sarcastically.

There aren’t.

“So who’s working with who?” Chris asks. “I mean as far as we’re concerned.”

“I’m with Jo,” Ellen says immediately. “And she’s the least experienced here, so we should probably be with the group with more firepower.”

“You don’t need to baby me!” Jo protests, “I’ve been on–”

“You’ve been on a few hunts, yeah, but one you ended up captured, the other dead. You’re going where I say you go.”

Jo fumes, but nods sulkily. “Fine!”

“Lehatiel’s group is the more balanced,” Michael says.

“Guess we’re with you then,” Ellen says.

Lehatiel ignores her.

“I’m in Anna’s group,” Rufus says, and everyone stares at him. He glares back.

Sam hides a smile. Evidently Anna’s made an impression.

Chris ends up with Ellen and Jo, and Kelly with Rufus.

“We’ll need to start drilling today,” Michael says. “We know how to work together, but we have never worked with mortals. And there are some of you,” his eye lingers on Gabriel, “who are out of practice.”

Gabriel sticks his tongue out at him.

“You give any thought to where you’re gonna hold this Battle Royale?” Bobby asks suddenly.

Michael looks at him, “No.”

“Well you gotta pick the ground, otherwise they’ll have the advantage,” Bobby says, and Michael nods.

“Obviously.”

“And it needs to be somewhere in this country.”

“Why?” Michael asks.

“Well I figure you guys are the ones most likely to win it. And if you go to another country you’ll have to transport the humans. Would make no sense for you to exhaust yourselves taking them all that way when you can stay closer to home.”

“We would not ‘exhaust ourselves,’ but you do have a point. Where would you suggest?”

Bobby shrugs. “Lemme think about it.”

***

Michael sets them to drilling in different parts of the junkyard, trying to work the angels and hunters into a cohesive team. It seems like Anna’s group will be okay, but from what Sam has seen of Lehatiel and what he knows of Ellen and Jo, they’re going to have their work cut out for them.

Sam ends up with Michael, Gabriel and Castiel in the center of the yard. Michael takes out his sword and says, “Well. Let us see how much you’ve lost in your time away.”

Gabriel scowls, but takes out his own sword.

Michael disarms him in less than a minute and snorts as Gabriel retrieves his sword from where it’s stuck in the dirt. “Pathetic.”

“Hey, I haven’t picked up a sword in nearly a thousand years!” Gabriel protests.

“That is no excuse. Again.”

Sam watches Gabriel fight. He’s got a different style than Michael, sneakier, less direct. He supposes that makes sense. He’s quick, and graceful, and manages to dodge a few of Michael’s blows the second time around, but Michael still wins.

“Better.”

After he’s sparred with Gabriel for about half an hour Michael turns to Sam. “Your turn.”

“What?”

“You have a knife, do you not?”

“Yeah, but–”

“Well then? Use it.” And Michael comes at him.

It’s _no_ kind of fair. Michael’s got all of Dean’s conditioning and his own experience, plus a longer blade. He’s not even winded from the bouts he’s already done, and Sam finds himself having to duck and dodge away at every turn.

By some miracle he manages to keep hold of his blade about as long as Gabriel had the second time, but he can’t even touch Michael; he’s too fast.

When Michael finally disarms him, Sam puts his hands on his knees, breathing hard.

“Useless.”

“Come on Michael, he’s only human,” Gabriel says.

“Precisely. Perhaps he would be better off on the flanks.”

Oh hell no. No _way_ is he not gonna be in the center of this. Sam retrieves his knife, still wheezing, and comes at Michael from behind.

He takes him by surprise, but that doesn’t give him much of an advantage. He’s tired, so this fight doesn’t last as long, and Michael snorts when it’s over. “What was the point of that? What were you trying to prove?”

“I’m... _not_ going…on the flanks,” Sam pants.

“You’re–” Michael pauses suddenly, cocking his head, then scowls. “Very well. You will not go on the flanks.”

Sam blinks at the abrupt reversal. “Okay?”

“Your brother is annoying,” Michael says.

Oh. Of course Dean would want him watching his back. Sam doesn’t know what kind of leverage his brother has, but evidently it’s enough.

“Okay then.”

Michael turns to Castiel next. “Have you any experience with a blade?”

“I’m in the garrison,” Castiel returns defiantly.

“Let’s see then.”

The fight that follows is about as fair as the one with Sam. Castiel’s good with a blade, but he’s not anywhere near as good as Michael and it’s over in seconds.

Michael shakes his head. “Worthless. You might as well be human. You’re going on the flanks.”

Castiel stares at him, his expression equal parts defiant, despairing and ashamed, but he nods.

“What the hell, Michael? He couldn’t have beaten you even in top condition, not when you came at him like that,” Gabriel says.

“Nonetheless…”

“Nonetheless nothing. _I’ll_ drill with him, make sure he’s good enough.”

Michael gives a long-suffering sigh. “Fine.”

Castiel shoots Gabriel a grateful look, and they start drilling.

***

Sam wanders around the yard, looking at the other groups. Seheiah and Kelly are doing something that looks like karate, and Rufus has his knife out and is sparring with Anna. Sariel nods at Sam as he passes.

In the other group things aren’t going so smoothly. Sam comes up in time to see Lehatiel wrench Jo’s arms behind her and throw her to the ground. She gasps, wincing as she gets up.

“Lehatiel! This is supposed to be a drill, not a full battle!” Samael snaps, and he scowls at her.

“Seems to me he’d rather not sully himself with humans,” Ellen says. “Maybe you should get someone else.”

Samael sighs. “He’s the one most likely to be able to take down demons.”

“This is foolish! Why are we even bothering with them?”

Samael opens her mouth to chastise him again, but Chris holds up a hand. “Beating up someone weaker than you. Real gentlemanly. Let’s see how you do against someone more experienced.”

Lehatiel scowls again but moves forward.

They circle each other, Chris crouching defensively, Lehatiel looking bored. When Chris comes forward to try to get him in a lock the angel moves aside easily and chops at his back. Chris winces, but recovers and retreats away from him.

They continue like that for awhile, neither of them doing much damage to the other, but Sam knows it’s because Lehatiel figures this is beneath him. After about five minutes of feinting though, Chris suddenly executes a roundhouse kick that hits Lehatiel full in the chin.

He doesn’t fall, doesn’t even stagger, but he looks stunned.

“There,” Chris pants. “Guess we’re not just ‘apes banging sticks together,’ huh?” He says it like he’s quoting.

Lehatiel nods thoughtfully, and after a moment admits, “Perhaps not.”

By the time Sam circles back to Michael the sun is high in the sky. Gabriel and Castiel are just finishing a fight. Michael nods at them, then looks at Sam. “Go on inside. I’m calling a halt for now.”

Sam does, followed by Cas and Gabriel.

Once Michael comes back inside Sam approaches him. “I walked around a little.”

Michael nods. “I’m aware.”

Sam tells him about Lehatiel, and about the fight between him and Chris. “It might be a problem. Is there really nobody else?”

“Samael is a capable lieutenant. She will deal with it. And Lehatiel is one of our best warriors.”

Sam nods, although privately he thinks it would be better to have someone not quite so good at fighting that wouldn’t let people die just because he didn’t like them.

***

He keeps an eye on Lehatiel’s group as much as he can over the next week or so, and talks to Samael occasionally, although she still makes him uneasy.

But it seems like he’s worked out his issues, and they’re drilling fairly well together. The last time Sam saw them Jo had managed to knock him back a step, although he recovered immediately.

Cas and Gabriel have been drilling too, and Michael’s not talking about putting Cas on the flanks anymore, or telling Gabriel he’s rusty. Sam’s even managed to get a “Passable,” from him, after he goes five minutes before being disarmed.

Michael and Bobby talk a lot about possible settings for the battle.

“How you gonna get him there anyway?” Bobby asks.

Michael blinks, but Dean must have translated the expression, because his confusion clears almost immediately. “Lucifer has been amassing an army of demons and fallen angels,” he replies. “When he hears the Trumpet he will come.”

They’re still trying to figure out _where_ to hold the battle though. Bobby had already eliminated anywhere overseas, and anywhere where there might be people, which cut down the possibilities considerably.

Finally they decide on somewhere in the desert of New Mexico, where there hopefully won’t be that many people. They hash out their strategy as much as possible, but Sam’s all too conscious of the proverb:

_No battle plan survives the first engagement with the enemy._

***

On the night before the battle Sam doesn’t sleep much. He doubts anyone does.

They’re up before dawn, getting ready. The hunters make sure their guns are in working order and loaded and the angels…well…gird themselves for battle. Samael and Lehatiel put on their armor. Sariel adds a sword to her toga and greaves. So do Seheiah and Zerachiel. They have no armor at all, and Sam wonders how well they’ll manage in a battle without it, but he supposes they know better than he does. Anna changes her regular clothes for a toga and sword.

Cas and Gabriel are in armor too, which is bizarre. Gabriel glares at him, daring him to comment, but Cas looks more relaxed and confident than Sam’s ever seen him. Sam supposes he’s worn armor more often than the trenchcoat, since he is a warrior. They tend to forget that sometimes.

Cas and Gabriel in armor might be bizarre, but it’s nowhere near as bizarre as _Dean_ in armor.

Full, silver and gold plate armor, with _crosses_ on it. Sam tries not to stare.

Once everyone’s ready the angels transport them to New Mexico.

Sam stumbles as he lands. There’s a light in the east, but the sun’s not up yet. It’s still fairly cool, although he knows it’ll get hot soon enough.

It’s mainly desert, uneven rock and scrub, but there’s a small mountain nearby. Michael gestures to it. “That’s where we’ll make our stand.”

“So what are we doing anyway?” Sam asks nervously.

Michael looks at him as if he hasn’t been paying attention. He has, it’s just Sam doesn’t see where he fits into it. “We’ll put the groups in position around that rise,” he says, pointing to a low ridge of stone encircling the mountain, purplish in the uncertain light, “Then Gabriel will sound the Horn, the Host will gather and we will charge.”

“But how will I–” The charge will be airborne, and Sam can’t fly.

“I said you would be better off on the flanks,” Michael said, and Sam’s really not in to mood to hear _I told you so._

“Stick with me, kid,” Gabriel says.

“What?”

“I can pull you along.”

“You can do that?” Sam asks as Michael gives a disgusted sigh and mutters about dead weight.

“Sure.”

Sam nods. “Okay.”

***

In half an hour the groups are in position on the flanks. Sam stands near the ridge with the angels. Gabriel takes out his Horn, which glows brighter than the just-risen sun would account for. He runs a finger over it thoughtfully. “I haven’t seen this in…must be a thousand years.”

“Enough reminiscing,” Michael says tightly. “I want to get this over with.”

Gabriel nods and raises the Horn to his lips, the sound of it the most beautiful thing Sam’s ever heard, even as it threatens to drive him insane. The sky fills with brilliant white light as the Host gathers.

But the demons come too, almost immediately, their black smoke turning the sky into a welter of light and dark that Sam can’t look at for more than a second.

Michael and Castiel take flight, Gabriel grabs Sam’s arm, and there’s a dizzying rush totally unlike when he’s traveled with Cas. They charge, Gabriel blowing the Horn again, landing at the foot of the mountain.

Sam staggers before Gabriel steadies him, Michael on his other side and Cas just beyond him.

There’s no sign of Death. Only Pestilence is in the center of the field, surrounded by insects. Lucifer stands at the edge of the mountain, flanked by what must be three fallen angels, their armor tarnished but whole. “Crap,” Sam hears Gabriel whisper. “Astaroth, Balberith and Asmodeus.”

Sam glances at him, and Gabriel points out each of them.

Rather than taking the charge all the way to the small group, Michael has stopped. Sam sees him take a deep breath, then he steps forward, his sword out, just looking at Lucifer.

Lucifer takes his own sword out, but says, “Michael. Brother, please. We don’t have to do this.”

Michael shakes his head sadly. “Yes we do, Lucifer. You’ve committed too many atrocities for me to let it lie.”

“I had to! Why should _they–_ ” he jerks his head at Sam, “–be given free will? Why are _they_ His favorites? They’re finite, they _end._ And they’ve done nothing but wreak destruction since they were created. We’re better than they are! He should never have created them!”

“So now you compound your sins with blasphemy?” Michael demands, his knuckles white on the hilt of his sword.

“Michael, if we–”

“ _No!_ ” Michael bellows, his face full of pain. “I won’t listen to any more of your lies!” And he charges forward at Lucifer.

Sam doesn’t see the confrontation, since all hell breaks loose, almost literally. Balberith lunges at Castiel, whose sword flashes as it meets the other angel’s.

Pestilence heads for Gabriel, who starts emitting the same blinding white light as the angels in the sky.

But Sam can’t pay attention to that, since the one Gabriel had called Asmodeus attacks him. The fallen angel comes at him savagely, and Sam parries with speed born of desperation. He manages to block the next few blows, getting driven further and further away from the center of the battle.

He can’t keep this up forever, so he raises the shotgun in his other hand and squeezes a shot off, sure salt won’t do anything against an angel.

It doesn’t. Asmodeus roars and comes at him again, wrenching the gun out of his hands. He tries to bring Ruby’s knife back up, but Asmodeus gets by his guard and slashes at his arm.

Sam winces and jerks back. Asmodeus presses his advantage, shoving him, and Sam goes down, his ankle screaming.

He covers his head futilely with his arms, sure he’s dead, but just as Asmodeus raises the knife, silhouetted against the hectic sky, the point of a blade sprouts from his chest, piercing his armor, and there’s an explosion of light.

As he lies panting and confused on the ground he hears Gabriel gasp, “Come on!”

Sam gets to his feet as quickly as he can. Gabriel looks awful, his face white, his hands shaking. Pestilence is gone, and Asmodeus lies dead on the ground a few steps away, the ashes of his wings spreading from his corpse, but Astaroth and Balberith are both fighting Castiel, and Cas is losing.

Gabriel and Sam hurry over to help, and Sam sees a blur of armor and scarred flesh as he goes: Michael and Lucifer.

Balberith whirls as Sam comes at him, his blade flashing. Sam manages to get Ruby’s knife in under his arm, where the armor doesn’t cover, but though the angel winces it’s obvious he’s not really hurt.

Gabriel distracts Astaroth, though he can barely keep his feet, and the two of them grapple, blades locked.

Freed of his attackers, Castiel comes to Sam’s aid, his sword sliding along Balberith’s armor.

Using the teamwork they’d learned from hunting and the last week’s drilling they keep the fallen angel’s focus divided, turning the tactic he and Astaroth had used against him.

Cas’ sword isn’t strong enough to penetrate his armor though, and Ruby’s knife certainly isn’t. Balberith is protecting his head and throat, any area not covered by armor.

Finally Sam makes a desperate overhand slash at him, and when Balberith’s sword comes up to deflect it Cas darts forward and slices his throat.

He goes down, blood spurting from his throat and light pouring from his eyes. Castiel looks away.

Gabriel is still fighting Astaroth, but Sam’s attention is caught by Michael and Lucifer.

Michael’s driven Lucifer back, about fifty feet up the slope of the mountain, and as Sam watches Lucifer shoves at him. Michael stumbles on the uneven ground and falls to his knees.

Cas breathes “ _Dean,_ ” and the next thing Sam knows Castiel’s standing next to Michael, slashing at Lucifer with his sword.

Lucifer staggers back a step, but recovers quickly, whirling to attack this new threat. Cas slips on the slope, tumbling to the foot of the mountain, but he’s given Michael enough time to get to his feet.

Lucifer’s wearing armor too, looking strange against his ravaged skin, but where Michael is wearing plate he’s wearing chain mail.

It’s not much use against Michael’s sword when he comes up behind Lucifer and stabs him.

When the other angels died there was a flash of light. When Lucifer dies there’s a flash of light and a concussion that triggers an avalanche, a torrent of rock and loose earth sliding down as Michael is thrown clear.

When the dust clears there’s nothing but a pile of rubble where Lucifer had been.

Michael stirs weakly, getting to his feet. There’s another flash, closer at hand, and Sam jerks his gaze back to Gabriel, his heart in his throat, to see Gabriel pulling his blade out of Astaroth’s body.

When they see that Lucifer’s dead the demons flee, black smoke rushing away in all directions. Or…they try to. The white light follows it, engulfing and dissolving most of the demons. Sam limps slowly to the center of the battlefield, where Michael and Cas are getting to their feet, Gabriel not far behind him. Michael looks down at the rubble, one of Lucifer’s hands hanging limp in the middle of it. His expression is hollow, dead, the most human Sam’s seen him look. His empty hand twitches, as if to reach forward, then stills.

After a moment, though, he puts his sword away and nods quietly.

Sam gives him a moment to compose himself, since, dick or not, he’s just killed his brother. “Okay, it’s over,” he says eventually. “Now leave us alone.”

Michael looks at him and raises a brow. “I think not.”

“What? It’s done, Lucifer’s _dead!_ The Apocalypse is over!”

Michael nods. “The Apocalypse may be over, but there is much still to do in establishing the new order.”

Sam’s blood goes cold. “New order?”

Michael looks at him like he’s an idiot. “Paradise.”

And he no longer has to worry about his blood being cold, since it’s apparently vanished. “ _What?!_ Dean never would have agreed to that!”

Michael shrugs. “Whether he would have agreed or not is immaterial. I have upheld all of his conditions.”

“Michael–” Gabriel starts, but he ignores him and walks off the field. Gabriel follows him.

Sam shoots a glance at Cas, who’s let his sword fall in the dust. His face is white with a mixture of terror and rage, and his hands are shaking.

***

It takes them awhile to deal with the cleanup. There’s a lot of destruction that hopefully no one will come out here to notice, several angels are dead and more are wounded. Samael had been killed defeating Death, who had attacked her group. Lehatiel had been stabbed saving Jo from a demon that came at her when she was trying to reload her shotgun. Zerachiel and Seheiah had bundled him off, but not before Jo thanked him. Kelly has a broken arm, and she’s sitting, white-faced, as Sariel fixes it.

The rest of the hunters had escaped more or less unscathed. The Host is gone, back to Heaven, Sam guesses, but Michael is still around.

Sam limps off the battlefield, his arm bleeding where Asmodeus had sliced him, and his ankle swollen where he’d gone down badly. At least it’s not broken.

“Need some help with that?”

“Hm?” He looks over to see Gabriel looking at him. “I thought you were going to talk to Michael.” Or, well, he’d assumed.

Gabriel grimaces. “I tried. It didn’t do any good. He always was stubborn.”

“How’s Cas?”

Gabriel shrugs. “I dunno. No one’s seen him.”

Sam shakes his head. “He looked pretty bad.”

“Well, Michael’s not letting Dean go.”

Sam shivers. “Yeah. Can we get him out?”

“Who knows?” Gabriel asks. “You should really let me fix that.”

“It’s fine.” It’s hardly the worst injury he’s had, and Gabriel’s exhausted from taking on Pestilence.

“You can barely walk.”

Sam sighs and nods reluctantly. “Fine.”

Gabriel lays a hand on his arm and the slash knits itself together, then he squats down to fix his ankle. “I think we’re done here,” he says, standing up again. “Let’s go.”

Sam nods and lets Gabriel press a hand to his forehead.

***

It turns out Cas is waiting for them at Bobby’s. Once everyone’s back they hold a pow-wow: Sam, Bobby, Cas and Gabriel. Anna’s off trying to keep an eye on Michael.

“Dean would never agree to making Earth into a paradise. I know that!” Sam says

“Doesn’t matter,” Gabriel says tiredly.

Cas nods. “Consent, once given, cannot be revoked as long as the angel is in possession.”

“That’s _stupid!_ ”

Gabriel shrugs. “Stupid or not, that’s the way it is.”

“So is there any way to get him out?” Bobby asks.

“It has never really come up before,” Castiel says. “Consent is consent.”

“But it’s _not!_ ” Sam bursts out. “Jimmy wasn’t going to let you back in until you took over his daughter. He wanted out.”

Cas shakes his head. “Perhaps we simply never thought of it before.”

“I’ll see what I can dig up, but I doubt I’ll find much,” Bobby says, and Sam nods.

“What about you?” he asks Gabriel. “Don’t you know something?” Gabriel’s an archangel, and he spent God-knows-how-long as a Trickster. If anyone knew a way to get Michael out of Dean’s body, he would.

Gabriel shifts uneasily. “I’ll see what I can do.”

***

A few days later Kelly, Chris and Rufus have gone home, and Ellen and Jo are trying to figure out what to do with themselves now that they’re alive again. Michael’s still around, getting updates from angels every so often.

Sam’s eating breakfast, with Cas standing near the door. He’s been staying around Sam since Michael made his little announcement, which makes sense. Besides Dean, Sam’s the person he’s closest to.

Gabriel walks into the room and says, “I think I’ve got something.”

“What? What is it?” Castiel demands. “Can you get him out?”

“I think so. It’s an exorcism.”

“How come I’ve never heard of it?” Sam asks.

Gabriel shrugs. “It’s not often done. And it takes a lot of juice.”

“How much juice?”

“Archangel-level juice.”

Sam thinks about that for a second. “So you’re the only one who can do it?”

“Yep. But I need your help.”

“Name it,” Castiel says.

***

“Hey,” Sam says to Michael a little while later. “Can I talk to you?”

Michael frowns. “Certainly.”

Sam heads into Bobby’s living room and takes the couch. Michael stays standing.

“Sit down, would you? I don’t want you looming over me.”

Michael frowns again, but he nods, sitting down in the only remaining chair.

The holy oil around it flares up and he bolts to his feet as Gabriel and Castiel enter the room.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he snarls.

“Putting you back where you belong. We don’t want paradise, Michael. We like Earth the way it is.”

And then Gabriel starts chanting, guttural and rough. Enochian, but Sam doesn’t know enough to translate.

Michael groans suddenly, and Sam hopes this works, since the holy oil won’t burn forever, and if he gets out they’re all dead.

As Gabriel continues to chant light seeps out of Michael’s eyes and mouth, almost too bright to look at.

The chant reaches a crescendo, there’s a blinding explosion of light and a wind that flutters papers around and puts out the burning oil.

When Sam looks up he sees Dean, shaking his head as though dazed. His eyes land on Castiel and his mouth falls open. “Cas…?”

He nods. “Yes, Dean. It’s me.”

And then his brother walks over and kisses the angel to within an inch of his life, which Sam did _not_ need to see, thank you, but he puts up with it under the circumstances.

He shoots a glance at Gabriel, and when he opens his mouth, no doubt to say, “Get a room,” Sam slaps his hand over it by reflex. Gabriel’s eyes widen, and Sam realizes what he’s done, but Gabriel just pulls Sam’s hand away and smirks.

He turns back to his brother, who thankfully isn’t kissing Cas anymore, though their foreheads are pressed together.

“You said yes,” Cas says, his voice ragged.

“I know. I’m sorry, but I didn’t know what else to do.” Dean pulls away, “You _died._ ”

Sam shoots a glare at Gabriel, to forestall the remark he knows is coming.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you.”

“What? God, no, Cas, none of this was your fault…”

And that’s more than enough. Sam drags Gabriel out of the room before the two of them declare their undying love or start ripping each other’s clothes off, both of which seem like distinct possibilities.


	2. The First Astonishment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anna gives Lehatiel some advice.

Lehatiel was restless. Michael had taken over the rule of Heaven, aided by Raphael, and his rule was harsh, punishing the merest hint of blasphemy severely.

He would have lashed out at the Winchesters, but they still had the sigils on their ribs protecting them, along with an archangel and a mysteriously repowered lesser angel.

Lehatiel had checked on the rest of their erstwhile human allies. The older hunter, Bobby, was too canny to allow himself to be caught, and none of the others had been directly involved in Michael’s casting out.

He’d thought that Michael would have at least had a warrior’s respect of a worthy foe in regards to the humans, but, like many angels, he seemed to regard them as the least of the Father’s creations, rather than the greatest. Lehatiel himself had been the same, until Chris had shown him that humans could fight.

Until he saw Jo, unarmed, with a demon coming at her.

One of the first things he’d done when Zerachiel had finished healing him was check on Jo. She was fine, still on the battlefield. He’d wanted to check on her many times after that, but forced himself to refrain from it.

Anna, however, seems to sense his worry, since she made it a point to mention that Ellen and Jo had gone back to the Roadhouse, which they’d rebuilt a few years ago. In their line of work, no one bats an eye at a few months’ absence, and, according to Anna, although there had been some grumbling about their leaving without getting someone to take care of the Roadhouse, no one made too much of an issue of it.

He sighs and stretches his wings out behind him, cords of emerald, kelly and sea-green energy lashing and flickering with his disquiet.

Anna had approached when he was distracted, her own wings wreathing silver and smoke around her. She looks at him, while he pulls his wings close again, trying to stop them from showing his worry.

“You should visit her,” Anna says quietly.

He tries not to jump guiltily. “Who?”

“Jo. She’d be happy to see you, and know you’re all right.”

His wings come around him, forming a nebulous shield between him and Anna. “She knows I’m fine.”

Anna purses her lips at him. “Does she? You were hurt when she last saw you. Michael can spare you for a few minutes,” she grimaces slightly at the name.

Faced with this persuasion to do what he wanted anyway, Lehatiel yields. “Just to let her know that I’m all right.”

Anna smiles slightly, and nods.

***

He materializes in the woods behind the Roadhouse. He’d come in midmorning, hoping that there wouldn’t be that many people there. Most hunters don’t know about angels, and with the Apocalypse finished even the ones who do won’t be expecting to encounter one, but there’s no sense taking foolish chances. Not that a human could do him serious harm in any case, but if they mobbed him he would have to defend himself, and Ellen wouldn’t take kindly to him maiming or killing her customers.

There are only a few people inside. They give him glances of wary respect–warrior to warrior–and then go back to what they were doing.

He doesn’t see Jo, so he goes hesitantly toward the bar, where Ellen is serving drinks.

“Pardon me, Ellen,” he says softly.

She looks up from the glass that she was filling, blinks, then smiles at him. “Lehatiel! Wasn’t expecting to see you again!”

He shifts slightly. “I came to see Jo.”

Ellen raises a brow. “Oh, really. You two need a chaperone?”

“I…what–?”

She chuckles. “Relax, flyboy, I was joking. I’ll dig up Jo for you.”

She vanishes into the back, and Lehatiel turns to studying the other patrons. They’re obviously hunters–lean, often scarred, carrying themselves with unconsciously lethal grace.

While he’s focused on the hunters a blur with long hair runs up to him, and before he can react, Jo has thrown her arms around him.

He stiffens at the contact. She’s pressing against his wings, and while not actually uncomfortable, it is awkward.

After a moment he brings his arms up and hugs her back stiffly. That seems to be what she was waiting for and she releases him.

“You’re OK!”

He smiles slightly. “Of course I am. Seheiah and Zerachiel are skilled healers. I was more concerned about you.”

She nods. “Thank you again. For saving me.”

“It was my pleasure, Joanna.”

She makes a face at the name, then looks around. “Walk with me?”

He follows her out of the Roadhouse and into the woods. The sun is high enough to shine through the trees, dappling the path with shifting patches of green-gold. It makes Jo’s hair glow.

Lehatiel blinks as she takes his hand, but she doesn’t seem to mean anything by it. “You ever been on Earth before?”

“Except for the planning sessions and the battle, no.”

She snorts. “We’ve got better to offer than junkyards and deserts.”

He looks around. “I can see that.”

They walk for awhile, eventually turning back to the Roadhouse. When they emerge from the woods, Lehatiel stops. “I should go.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

He doesn’t leave immediately though. She reaches out to hug him again and he flinches away.

“What’s wrong?”

He forces himself to relax. “Nothing. It’s just angels don’t...generally hug.”

She’s immediately contrite. “Oh, I’m sorry!”

He smiles again. “In your case, I did not mind.”

“Ah. OK.” But she doesn’t hug him again. Instead she stands on her tiptoes and presses her lips to his cheek. “Come back soon, OK?”

He blinks at her. “Of course,” he says, without thinking.

Even when he’s back in Heaven, no longer in his vessel, he can feel the imprint of her lips on his cheek.


End file.
